Author's Note: Here's chapter two, sorry for the late update! This story
is going to be "fic-let," and so there will probably just be one or two
more chapters.
Thanks for your reviews, and to answer your question Em, yes, I did write that little poem myself! I'm glad you all liked it, because I personally think writing poetry is really scary because poetry in many ways is way more personal and revealing than a story. I usually don't write poetry at all, but one night, I was feeling inspired for whatever reason, and so I wrote the poem, then modified the poem to "Lizzie McGuire," then created this story around that poem.
Anyway, please read and review! hm
***********************************************************************
Lizzie took careful notice of Gordo's odd, anxious expression, and thought, he *is* trying to hide something from me, and I *need* to know what this is all about . . . .
"Gordo, you are absolutely terrible at telling lies. I know you're keeping something from me, so you might as well just 'fess it up right now," Lizzie said, with her arms crossed and in a mock-stern voice.
"No, honestly, it's nothing, I -uh-have an itch! Yeah! That's it! My stomach was itching really badly and I'm using this, ah, blank piece of paper to scratch it! Ahhhhh, that feels so good!" He replied, as he "scratched" his itch with the crinkled piece of paper.
Ow, ow, ow, ow . . . . that hurts . . . .
Upon hearing Gordo's extremely weak answer, Lizzie rolled her eyes and chuckled at the ridiculous sight of her friend moving around a piece of paper underneath his shirt.
Okay, he's not gonna give it up so easily, so I have to be more subtle about this, she thought.
"Okay, you win, Gordo. Hey, I'm a little thirsty, I'm gonna go out into the hallway and get a drink of water from the fountain, I'll be right back," she said as she headed out of his dorm room.
"Great! I'll see you in a little bit!"
As he watched her disappear out the door, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, took the poem out of his shirt, walked over to his mattress, and hid the poem in between the mattress and the box spring.
He then walked back over to his desk and waited for Lizzie to return. Okay, I'm safe, thank god.
Lizzie came walking back in and said, "Okay, Gordo, you ready to go? I'm starving!"
He smiled at her and replied, "Oh yeah, you know me, I'm always ready to eat! Let me just grab my coat and we'll take off."
As he took a step towards his closet, he saw Lizzie stagger and brace herself against the wall. She didn't look very good.
"Hey, Lizzie, you okay?" He asked.
"Ohmigosh, all of sudden I feel really faint and woozy. I think I'm feeling nauseous."
He rushed to her, touched her shoulder, and asked, "Hey, do you need to lie down or something? Do you want me to call a doctor?"
"No, I'm fine, really, I get like this sometimes when I haven't eaten in awhile. What would really help me is if I had some ginger ale, you know, to soothe my stomach."
"Okay, hold on, there's a vending machine on the fifth floor, I'll get a ginger ale for you, I'll be back in a flash," he said as he briskly walked out the door.
As soon as he was gone, she wiped away her false sickness, smiled mischievously, and proudly thought to herself, Ha! The I'm-feeling-sick- could-you-get-me-a-ginger ale-trick works every time! Gordo, for a really smart guy, he sure can be really gullible sometimes!
She walked over to Gordo's bed, stuck her hand in between the mattress and box spring, and pulled out the piece of paper that was hidden there.
When she told Gordo that she was going to get a drink of water, she lied, and instead of heading towards the water fountain, she stood just outside the dorm room, and used her compact mirror to see what Gordo would do with the paper underneath his shirt.
As she held the paper in her hand, she thought to herself, maybe I should be a secret agent or something, I think that's my true calling! She giggled then began to read what was written on the paper.
Alright, let's see why Mr. David Gordon didn't want me to read this, I hope it's not anything bad about me . . . .
Oh! It's a poem! I didn't know Gordo wrote poetry!
As soon as she read the title, her mouth dropped wide open and she felt her heart skip a beat.
It's a poem . . . about me! He wrote a poem for me! She gasped.
Why? Now, why in the world would he do that?
Well, there's only one way to find out . . . . and you'd better hurry, McGuire, he's gonna be back any minute now.
She began reading the poem softly to herself. "A Poem for Lizzie. All I want, all I want is you, Lizzie McGuire. You make my heart sing, you make my heart smile, you make my heart soar, you take my breath away . . . ."
As she continued to read the poem, she felt herself deeply moved and touched, melting from the emotions expressed in the poem . . . . melting from the love she could feel jumping off of each and every line.
Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, Gordo, do you feel this way . . . about me?? Ohmigosh, these are the sweetest things anyone's ever said to me . . . . .
Even though she tried to stop herself, she couldn't help it as tears started to stream down her face.
She quickly finished reading the poem, and then stood there, trying to let everything she had just read sink in.
And with the poem still in her hands, one of her tear drops fell and gently splashed on the poem, slightly smudging her name in the poem's title.
She closed her eyes, pulled the poem to her heart, gazed upwards, smiled and allowed her joyfully confused emotions to float up and flow freely.
Lost in her thoughts and feelings, she suddenly realized, Oh! Gordo should be coming back anytime now! I should put the poem back where I found it . . . . but I don't want to! I love it, I want to keep it!
What should I do?
With that thought, she could hear footsteps just right outside the dorm room. Instinctively, she quickly folded up the poem and stuffed it into her purse.
"Okay, sorry it took me awhile, Lizzie, but the machine was being tempermental and not accepting my change right away," said Gordo as he walked into the room and handed a can of ginger ale to Lizzie. "It took a good, swift, kick to the machine's posterior before it finally take my quarters."
'Th-thanks Gordo," she replied. "But, I'm okay now, I don't feel sick anymore."
"Great! I'm glad you're feeling better," he said, as he looked upon his friend with great curiosity. She looked like as she had just been crying, but not in a sad way, for she was returning his look with a broad smile and with what looked like a flirtatious gleem in her eyes. If he had to put a finger on it, he could swear that she was almost *glowing.*
"Uh, Lizzie, you -you sure you're okay?"
"Oh, Gordo! I'm more than okay, I feel really and absolutely wonderful right now!"
Oh-kay, he thought, that's great, but there's something a little bit odd with the way she is right now, but I can't quite figure what's going on with her . . . .
"Awesome, McGuire, uh, me, too! I feel wondeful too, yeah. Anyway, are you ready to go get some food?"
Still smiling, she slowly sauntered towards him and stood only a few inches from his face. She gazed at his eyes and carefully studied his features. She was now looking at him in an entirely different way, she was now looking at him as the man who, judging from the words in his poem, was deeply in love with her.
She whispered softly, "Mm-hhmm, yes, I'm ready to go out with you, Gordo."
His heart melted upon hearing her soft, sensuous voice. There was something very different in the way she was speaking to him, and whatever it was, it was having some serious effects on his emotions and feelings. And being so close to her, he was having an incredibly difficult time trying to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing Lizzie's body and kissing her ruby-red lips with all of his heart.
"Uhhhh . .. . me, too?"
His brain was complete puddy, he could not think straight as he was overwhelmed by his senses.
She laughed inside, because she could tell the effect she was having on him. This moment was positively wonderful . . . she was still in utter shock and confusion, still not sure about how she felt about Gordo, still not quite sure if he truly meant everything he said in his poem, but, in this moment, all she could think about were all the wonderful possibilities and implications, and she wanted nothing more tonight than to explore and find out the truth of her feelings for him and the truth of his feelings for her.
"Well, then, Mr. Gordon, shall we?" She softly kissed him on the cheeks, took his right hand, and began leading an extremely dazed, bewildered but a very blissful Gordo out of his dorm room and into the beautiful, crisp autumn night in Cambridge . . . .
Thanks for your reviews, and to answer your question Em, yes, I did write that little poem myself! I'm glad you all liked it, because I personally think writing poetry is really scary because poetry in many ways is way more personal and revealing than a story. I usually don't write poetry at all, but one night, I was feeling inspired for whatever reason, and so I wrote the poem, then modified the poem to "Lizzie McGuire," then created this story around that poem.
Anyway, please read and review! hm
***********************************************************************
Lizzie took careful notice of Gordo's odd, anxious expression, and thought, he *is* trying to hide something from me, and I *need* to know what this is all about . . . .
"Gordo, you are absolutely terrible at telling lies. I know you're keeping something from me, so you might as well just 'fess it up right now," Lizzie said, with her arms crossed and in a mock-stern voice.
"No, honestly, it's nothing, I -uh-have an itch! Yeah! That's it! My stomach was itching really badly and I'm using this, ah, blank piece of paper to scratch it! Ahhhhh, that feels so good!" He replied, as he "scratched" his itch with the crinkled piece of paper.
Ow, ow, ow, ow . . . . that hurts . . . .
Upon hearing Gordo's extremely weak answer, Lizzie rolled her eyes and chuckled at the ridiculous sight of her friend moving around a piece of paper underneath his shirt.
Okay, he's not gonna give it up so easily, so I have to be more subtle about this, she thought.
"Okay, you win, Gordo. Hey, I'm a little thirsty, I'm gonna go out into the hallway and get a drink of water from the fountain, I'll be right back," she said as she headed out of his dorm room.
"Great! I'll see you in a little bit!"
As he watched her disappear out the door, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, took the poem out of his shirt, walked over to his mattress, and hid the poem in between the mattress and the box spring.
He then walked back over to his desk and waited for Lizzie to return. Okay, I'm safe, thank god.
Lizzie came walking back in and said, "Okay, Gordo, you ready to go? I'm starving!"
He smiled at her and replied, "Oh yeah, you know me, I'm always ready to eat! Let me just grab my coat and we'll take off."
As he took a step towards his closet, he saw Lizzie stagger and brace herself against the wall. She didn't look very good.
"Hey, Lizzie, you okay?" He asked.
"Ohmigosh, all of sudden I feel really faint and woozy. I think I'm feeling nauseous."
He rushed to her, touched her shoulder, and asked, "Hey, do you need to lie down or something? Do you want me to call a doctor?"
"No, I'm fine, really, I get like this sometimes when I haven't eaten in awhile. What would really help me is if I had some ginger ale, you know, to soothe my stomach."
"Okay, hold on, there's a vending machine on the fifth floor, I'll get a ginger ale for you, I'll be back in a flash," he said as he briskly walked out the door.
As soon as he was gone, she wiped away her false sickness, smiled mischievously, and proudly thought to herself, Ha! The I'm-feeling-sick- could-you-get-me-a-ginger ale-trick works every time! Gordo, for a really smart guy, he sure can be really gullible sometimes!
She walked over to Gordo's bed, stuck her hand in between the mattress and box spring, and pulled out the piece of paper that was hidden there.
When she told Gordo that she was going to get a drink of water, she lied, and instead of heading towards the water fountain, she stood just outside the dorm room, and used her compact mirror to see what Gordo would do with the paper underneath his shirt.
As she held the paper in her hand, she thought to herself, maybe I should be a secret agent or something, I think that's my true calling! She giggled then began to read what was written on the paper.
Alright, let's see why Mr. David Gordon didn't want me to read this, I hope it's not anything bad about me . . . .
Oh! It's a poem! I didn't know Gordo wrote poetry!
As soon as she read the title, her mouth dropped wide open and she felt her heart skip a beat.
It's a poem . . . about me! He wrote a poem for me! She gasped.
Why? Now, why in the world would he do that?
Well, there's only one way to find out . . . . and you'd better hurry, McGuire, he's gonna be back any minute now.
She began reading the poem softly to herself. "A Poem for Lizzie. All I want, all I want is you, Lizzie McGuire. You make my heart sing, you make my heart smile, you make my heart soar, you take my breath away . . . ."
As she continued to read the poem, she felt herself deeply moved and touched, melting from the emotions expressed in the poem . . . . melting from the love she could feel jumping off of each and every line.
Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, Gordo, do you feel this way . . . about me?? Ohmigosh, these are the sweetest things anyone's ever said to me . . . . .
Even though she tried to stop herself, she couldn't help it as tears started to stream down her face.
She quickly finished reading the poem, and then stood there, trying to let everything she had just read sink in.
And with the poem still in her hands, one of her tear drops fell and gently splashed on the poem, slightly smudging her name in the poem's title.
She closed her eyes, pulled the poem to her heart, gazed upwards, smiled and allowed her joyfully confused emotions to float up and flow freely.
Lost in her thoughts and feelings, she suddenly realized, Oh! Gordo should be coming back anytime now! I should put the poem back where I found it . . . . but I don't want to! I love it, I want to keep it!
What should I do?
With that thought, she could hear footsteps just right outside the dorm room. Instinctively, she quickly folded up the poem and stuffed it into her purse.
"Okay, sorry it took me awhile, Lizzie, but the machine was being tempermental and not accepting my change right away," said Gordo as he walked into the room and handed a can of ginger ale to Lizzie. "It took a good, swift, kick to the machine's posterior before it finally take my quarters."
'Th-thanks Gordo," she replied. "But, I'm okay now, I don't feel sick anymore."
"Great! I'm glad you're feeling better," he said, as he looked upon his friend with great curiosity. She looked like as she had just been crying, but not in a sad way, for she was returning his look with a broad smile and with what looked like a flirtatious gleem in her eyes. If he had to put a finger on it, he could swear that she was almost *glowing.*
"Uh, Lizzie, you -you sure you're okay?"
"Oh, Gordo! I'm more than okay, I feel really and absolutely wonderful right now!"
Oh-kay, he thought, that's great, but there's something a little bit odd with the way she is right now, but I can't quite figure what's going on with her . . . .
"Awesome, McGuire, uh, me, too! I feel wondeful too, yeah. Anyway, are you ready to go get some food?"
Still smiling, she slowly sauntered towards him and stood only a few inches from his face. She gazed at his eyes and carefully studied his features. She was now looking at him in an entirely different way, she was now looking at him as the man who, judging from the words in his poem, was deeply in love with her.
She whispered softly, "Mm-hhmm, yes, I'm ready to go out with you, Gordo."
His heart melted upon hearing her soft, sensuous voice. There was something very different in the way she was speaking to him, and whatever it was, it was having some serious effects on his emotions and feelings. And being so close to her, he was having an incredibly difficult time trying to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing Lizzie's body and kissing her ruby-red lips with all of his heart.
"Uhhhh . .. . me, too?"
His brain was complete puddy, he could not think straight as he was overwhelmed by his senses.
She laughed inside, because she could tell the effect she was having on him. This moment was positively wonderful . . . she was still in utter shock and confusion, still not sure about how she felt about Gordo, still not quite sure if he truly meant everything he said in his poem, but, in this moment, all she could think about were all the wonderful possibilities and implications, and she wanted nothing more tonight than to explore and find out the truth of her feelings for him and the truth of his feelings for her.
"Well, then, Mr. Gordon, shall we?" She softly kissed him on the cheeks, took his right hand, and began leading an extremely dazed, bewildered but a very blissful Gordo out of his dorm room and into the beautiful, crisp autumn night in Cambridge . . . .